Chapter 19

"How's he doing?" Bel asked as she stepped into the hospital room. It was late, the scene at Jax Frost's house requiring endless hours from her, and as much as she wanted to collapse into bed, she couldn't go home without reassuring herself that Griffin was safe.

"He's fine," the sheriff's wife said from where she sat beside his bed. "Tired, but they think he should be discharged tomorrow."

"That's good news." Bel hugged his wife. She didn't know her well, but after holding Griffin's blood in her hands, she felt connected to the other woman in his life who loved him dearly.

"Thank God," his wife said. "He faces risks every day as sheriff, but when I got the call that he'd been shot, I got sick over my toilet. I know you understand that." She brushed Bel's hair aside. "Lord knows, you've ended up in the hospital enough doing this job."

"Emerson?" Griffin rolled over and squinted at her. "It's late. Shouldn't you be home resting? You had a hell of a day."

"There's no way I could sleep unless I checked on you." Bel sat on the edge of his mattress.

"I'll go get a coffee." His wife rubbed her back. "Give you two a chance to talk."

"Thanks, babe." Griffin grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles, waiting for her to leave before he turned to Bel. "How's the scene?" he asked.

"We were right," she said, capturing his hands in both of hers. "Jax Frost is The Matchstick Girl Killer. We found a hidden room in the basement with Rohypnol and photos. Forty-two photos."

"Oh god."

"He photographed each victim after they died before moving them into the background with the rest," Bel said. "Our techs are going to comb through his computer records. They believe we'll find proof that he accessed Walker's accounts to pay his bills, but even if they don't, the photographs are undeniable evidence that he killed those girls."

"All because a hyper Jerry made Eamon nervous," Griffin said. "If not for him, we wouldn't have suspected a cameraman. I'm going to have to thank him."

"Don't look so excited." Bel smirked, and her boss rolled his eyes. "And he mentioned it to protect me. He doesn't want thanks. He just wants me safe."

"So I break into a house without a warrant and almost get you killed. Maybe I shouldn't talk to him."

"We all know I'm half to blame," Bel said. "When do I ever let things go?"

Griffin burst into laughter. "I hate how much I care about you because you are my best detective and cop. You're fearless—a little too much sometimes—but that's what makes you great at this job. Fearless isn't a trait I want for those I love, though. You solve cases, yet I'm always scared for you, so I'm sorry about putting you in that position today."

"You were the one that got hurt."

"I don't have kids, so I forget you aren't my daughter. I don't like putting you in harm's way. It's tough when your detectives start feeling like family… hey, don't cry." He pulled his hand out of hers and wiped her cheeks.

"I love you, and I'm really glad you didn't die today." Bel collapsed against his chest and wrapped her arms around her boss. "Never scare me like that again."

"I'll try." He ran his fingers over her hair. "But I expect the same. You're always giving me a heart attack."

"I probably always will."

"I unfortunately believe you," he chuckled. "It's late, and I'm sure Eamon is worried about you, but before I let you go, we need to talk about something."

"Sure." Bel sat up and wiped her face on her sleeve.

"It's standard procedure, but whenever an officer fires their weapon and there's a death, an investigation is conducted," he said. "I'm not worried. Killing Frost was self-defense. One look at that wall will prove it, but I can't return until they clear me. They'll also want to talk to you."

"I'll tell them exactly what happened. We had probable cause to enter the residence, but he opened fire before we could rescue Sarah Bristol."

"You don't have to lie for me," Griffin said.

"I won't," Bel said. "We found that earring, which saved that girl's life. Frost killed forty-three people that we know of. Because of us, that number isn't forty-four."

"The NYPD lost a great treasure in you, but I'll never give you back." Griffin squeezed her hand as his wife returned with coffee and assorted vending machine snacks.

"With the rate Bajka's going, you can't give me back." Bel smirked as she stood.

"Valid point. Do me a favor. Look after the station until I'm cleared to return."

"Will do." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek before hugging his wife. "Have a good night. I'll check on you in the morning."

"Get some rest, Emerson."

Bel waved over her shoulder as she left the room. She'd called Eamon earlier so he wouldn't learn of the shooting on the news, but he was with a client. He was hours away, and she prayed he was almost home. She wanted nothing more than to climb into his bed and pretend only he and her dog existed for the next few hours.

"My daughter? Where's my daughter!" a hysterical woman screamed as she burst through the hospital doors, her frantic husband hard on her heels, and while the poor women at the hospital's front entrance had no clue who the panicked mother was, Bel recognized her instantly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bristol." She strode toward the couple. Sleep would have to wait. "My name is Detective Isobel Emerson."

"Oh god." Mrs. Bristol seized her husband's forearm. "You're her, aren't you? You're the cop who found my baby."

"I am," she said, but the words were barely out of her mouth before Mrs. Bristol launched herself at her. The mother pulled her into a powerful embrace as she sobbed, and Bel didn't care that she'd have to lie about hearing Sarah scream to justify their entrance. This was worth it. This moment when a mom learned her child was alive.

"I can take you to her." She hugged the woman back.

"Is she okay?" Mrs. Bristol asked. "She's okay, right?"

"The doctor will answer those questions, but she's here and stable," Bel said. "I'll help you find him."

"Thank you," husband and wife said in unison, and when Mrs. Bristol refused to release Bel's hand, she guided the couple up to their daughter's room. She held back as the doctor confirmed the parent's identities and then explained the specifics of Sarah's condition, but she watched from the doorway as the family reunited. Sarah had begged for her mom in that attic, and tears spilled down Bel's cheeks as a mother pulled her lost daughter into her arms. It was a heart-wrenchingly beautiful scene, and everything she'd endured became worth it. The sleepless nights, the stress, the shootout. She would do it all again to watch a girl realize her mom had come for her, to watch parents who expected to bury their only child find her alive and safe. When her job became too heavy, too dark and overwhelming, Bel sometimes wondered why she put herself through this hell, but watching Mrs. Bristol kiss Sarah reminded her that sometimes good won, and when it did, it possessed more magic than the most powerful spell.

As if sensing their audience, Mrs. Bristol glanced at her over her daughter's head. She didn't speak, but Bel understood her all the same. She nodded at the woman and left the family to rejoice in private.

Jogging down to the main reception for the second time that evening, Bel finally exited the hospital and aimed toward her car. Tomorrow would be another long day, but seeing the Bristols had lightened her mood, and she practically floated across the pavement until a familiar presence slipped over her skin. The parking lot grew darker, the shadows closing in on her as the hair on the back of her neck rose, and she barely had time to brace herself before a massive shape surged from the blackness.

"Isobel Emerson, don't you ever do that to me again," Eamon growled as he scooped her off the ground and pulled her against his chest with a curse that settled against her bones. His voice was so full of fear, of desperation and longing, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as tightly as she wound her arms around his neck.

"I'm okay," she said as he claimed her mouth, kissing her as if he'd been suffocating for days and she was his only oxygen. "I wasn't hurt."

"But you were shot at." He moved across the ground until her back bumped his truck, and he hoisted her onto the hood. "That monster tried to take your life, and I wasn't there to protect you. I wasn't even in town, and I spent the entire drive home panicking that you wouldn't be here when I arrived."

"Eamon." She grabbed his face and forced him to meet her gaze. "I called you. You heard my voice. You knew I was safe."

"That doesn't matter. It's irrational, but it didn't matter. I needed to see you to know for sure. I…" he trailed off as his head collapsed against her chest. "I love you so much that it hurts all the time. I guess that's what happens to a heart when it spends decades filled with only hate, and then centuries with indifference. I've never loved anyone like I love you, and to hear some serial killer tried to shoot you… It makes me sick."

"I didn't handle it much better," Bel said, threading her fingers through his hair as he kissed her collarbone. "Griffin was shot. It's a flesh wound, but still. All I could think about was your back after that IED. But we're okay, and we saved Sarah. I just escorted her parents to her room, and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Eamon, I wish you'd been there because she begged for her mom when I found her, and helping return her to her mother is a feeling I'll never forget. It was terrifying, but I would do it again to save even one more girl."

"This is why I'm so hopelessly in love with you." He pressed his lips against hers, the kiss turning molten as their emotions fueled their connection. "You are the best of us."

"I'm not."

"Don't argue, Detective. It's the truth."

"Yes, sir." She tugged his hair, and he groaned as he gripped her thighs, forcing them open as he settled between her legs. The atmosphere shifted as he inhaled her every moan, and for the briefest of seconds, she forgot where she was as his kiss consumed her.

"Take me home, Mr. Stone," she gasped, pulling away to regain control of her overheated body. "It's cold, and this is a very public parking lot, but you started something I expect you to finish." She kissed him seductively, and Eamon bit her lip, letting his sharp canines drag over her skin.

"Yes, Detective." He scooped her off his truck's hood and walked her to her car. "I'll follow you, but don't go too fast. I need you to get home in one piece."

"I'll be safe." She kissed him one last time, wondering for half a second how irresponsible it would be to climb into the back seat with him. "But I might drive a little fast." She pinched her fingers to illustrate her point, but he captured them in a love bite.

"You enjoy making me crazy." He grabbed her seatbelt and pulled it over her body.

"So crazy." She nipped his ear as he buckled the belt into place, and the moment he moved out of the way, she slammed the door and started her engine. She was alive. She'd survived, and she'd saved that girl. Life pulsed through her veins, and all she wanted was to go home and celebrate with the man she was dangerously close to saying three words to.

"Have you gone through his computer yet?" Bel asked as she settled behind the tech's desk. Despite almost dying by a one-man firing squad, seeing Sarah reunited with her parents had ignited a sense of euphoria in Bel's chest, and she'd celebrated being alive by spending the night in Eamon's arms. His fear of losing her collided with her relief, and neither of them found sleep until the early morning hours. Their night had been desperate and passionate. Primal and raw and honest, but their urgency faded with the darkness, leaving only peace in its wake. Eamon had made her a full breakfast, and combined with a shower, the homemade cappuccino, and plenty of dog kisses, she felt almost ready to step into Griffin's shoes and tackle the mountain of work awaiting her.

"Yes, I have. Frost had some security measures, but nothing we couldn't handle," the tech said. "He probably assumed his other precautions would keep us from ever finding this computer."

"If that tree hadn't fallen, they would have," Bel said.

"There isn't much on here, but his internet history shows he visited the electric company's customer site. He'd accessed Walker's accounts regularly, so while it isn't concrete proof that he killed Walker, it convinced me."

"Me too," she agreed. "But Frost is dead, and we need to cover ourselves and prove he's The Matchstick Girl Killer."

"Which we won't have any problems doing with those photos and Rohypnol stores," he said. "I found something else interesting. It's not evidence, but it might help explain things."

"Show me." She grabbed a chair from an unoccupied desk and pulled it closer.

"I found this article. Dates back twenty years, but he'd had a scanned version hidden in his files." The tech opened up the news clipping. "It's short, and you can read it for yourself if you want, but to sum it up, a group of photojournalists were unexpectedly stranded in a blizzard. The remote location made rescue impossible, and they froze to death."

"That's horrible," Bel said. "Was Frost the reporter who wrote the piece?"

"No, he isn't mentioned at all," he said. "It's an oddly sparse article, but he kept this for a reason. There's more to the story. I'm certain of it, and I think Frost was involved somehow."

"And it birthed the desire to murder by hypothermia."

"We'll never know, and while we don't need his reasonings to close the case, I need an explanation for why he killed those women. Maybe he was trapped in that blizzard, forced to watch all those men freeze, and the trauma broke him."

"Or he was always a madman obsessed with the cold," Bel said. "His motives went to the grave with him, but we stopped him, and that's what matters." She stood up and placed her hand on the man's shoulder. If she didn't leave, she'd be late meeting Lina and Olivia for the next autopsies, and Frost's death didn't erase their need to be thorough.

"But, yes, maybe that article explains why Frost did what he did," she added. "Maybe something happened in the snow twenty years ago that he couldn't walk away from."

"Perfect timing. We just identified another Jane Doe," Lina said when Bel arrived at the morgue. "It's been slow going, but we're starting to put faces to names."

"That's good," Bel said.

"It is, and it isn't," Lina said. "It's nice to finally give these families closure, but some girls were runaways. Their parents have been clinging to the idea that their kids simply ran away, so notifying them their child was a serial killer's victim steals that hope out from under them. Hope is dangerous, and when you live with it for years, it can cause damage when it's ripped away."

"At least we can promise them Frost will never do this to any other women," Bel said. "It's not enough, but it's something."

They fell silent as they entered the examination room where Olivia waited. She'd been tasked with the overwhelming job of gathering the evidence from the forty-two autopsies to preserve the chain of custody while Bel temporarily stepped into her boss' shoes, but so far, the only evidence left on The Matchstick Girls was their outfits.

"This is Hazel Wyatt," Lina began. "She's one of the few who came from a stable background, and there was a missing person's report, making it easy to ID her. Her parents provided hair samples from her brush and DNA from her toothbrush, as well as photos and fingerprints. She went missing three years ago, but her parents didn't notice because she was on a summer trip with a friend. She was scheduled to travel for a few months, and when she didn't call, her family assumed she was too busy. They thought it odd, but it wasn't cause for a police report until they went to the airport to pick her up from her return flight and she never got off the plane."

"That's out of character for Frost," Bel said. "He took women no one would miss, so he either messed up with Hazel Wyatt or he was getting brave. He'd been killing for almost a decade at that point. Perhaps he wanted to up the ante."

"Maybe," Lina said. "I completed the autopsy, so I'm going to release the body to her family if?—"

"Bel!" Olivia shouted, cutting off the medical examiner, and both Bel and Lina ducked at the shock in her voice.

"What's wrong?" Bel asked, but Gold didn't speak. She simply pointed at the clear evidence bag, leaving her hand hanging accusingly in the air until Bel crossed the room to see what had caused her alarm.

"What…" Bel trailed off as she settled next to Olivia. She didn't need to ask what had frozen her partner where she stood because the moment her eyes landed on the object, her heart stuttered.

For lying there in the evidence bag was a gum wrapper. A navy blue one, and it had been folded into a perfect origami butterfly.